I've been thinking about what I want for Christmas for months now. At first I thought I wanted a new bicycle, a sparkling baby blue one with a basket. But then I considered a giant teddy bear that I could name Theodore the Great, or even the new American Girl Doll that I didn't have.

Then yesterday, my dad took me to the store to get some decorations and I saw the most beautiful ballerina tutu and slippers that I had ever seen and I told myself that, that, was what I was going to ask you for, for Christmas. But as I was standing in the checkout line, daydreaming of how elegant I would look in my new slippers and tutu, I noticed a little girl, not more than a year younger than me. She stood next to, who I assumed to be her mother, wearing her puffy winter coat over her sparkly red dress. She seemed sad and her mother seemed even more sad as she lovingly held her daughter's hand. When the girl noticed I was looking she smiled and greeted me; I smiled back with a “Merry Christmas”. With a friendly giggle, she asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I explained to her each of my many options and then added triumphantly that I have just recently made up my mind and then asked her what she was asking for. I wasn't even halfway through the question, when I noticed her face become more sullen and the sparkle in her eyes began to fade. She looked at me, and with a false smile followed by quiet words, she told me that she wasn't asking Santa for anything for herself. She must have known what I was thinking because she went on to explain how her grandmother was very sick with a disease known as cancer. She said that all she wanted this year was for her grandmother to spend one last Christmas with her and her family. It was then that I realized how lucky I was. I couldn't decide on what I wanted for Christmas because I already have everything that I could possibly need. I had a loving family, a warm home, food to eat, and friends to share my good times with.

Which is why, Santa, I must ask you for an extraordinary favor; this Christmas, I want the girl in the store to be able to enjoy Christmas with her grandmother. But not only that, I want every little girl or boy with a sick loved one to be filled with joy this Christmas. Even those fortunate enough, like me, who have everything they could ever need, I want them to have the gift of thankfulness.

I know this is a lot to ask for, but all I ask is that you try. I've learned my lesson and now I know, that Christmas isn't about receiving, it's about being thankful for what you already have.

Yours Truly,

Rachael

P.S. I still hope you stop by and enjoy the milk and cookies I made for you.

Santa's Bell

By Abbigail Downer

Grade 10, Spaulding High School, Rochester

The street lamps along the road shone down on bustling shoppers. A half-hearted drizzle of snow accented the woolen caps and hoods below. One girl in particular, wearing a red hat over mousy brown hair, strode down the sidewalk with the tide of her fellow shoppers. Shops that lined the street glowed red and green, and lights spilled from their windows. Their displays as well as warmth beckoned to those outside.

The ringing of a bell reached the ears of the red-capped shopper, and she passed a Santa waving his bell over a donation pot. Several people ahead of her stopped to give a few dollars to the cause. Frowning and muttering about annoying bells and disturbances she turned into a shop. A crowd of others wandered about the shelves in hopes to see the end of their holiday shopping. Picking out a number of things from the stocked shelves, the girl made her way to the mounting line at the register.

As the line dwindled, a man ahead of her moved to step out of his place, tired eyes showing behind his apologetic smile, saying that he was only a few dollars short. A woman just in front of the girl hastily stopped him before he left and silently handed him a few wrinkled bills. The man's many thanks echoed in the girl's ears long after he had turned back to the line and the woman had slipped out the door.

Now hindered by her purchases, the girl bumped out of the store into the chill night and rejoined the masses threading their way through the streets. Making her way to another shop the girl saw a gap in the tide of people where a woman had dropped her bags and scattered her things. The girl was swept along with the flow of shoppers as they swerved around the woman. As she passed she glimpsed two figures step out from the throng and kneel to assist the woman. In a slight haze the girl turned into the front of another shop and entered.

The tiny tinkling of a bell at the top of the door brought the girl back to her present task. She moved off through decorated shelves, searching for her last presents. One aisle over, she watched a boy hop, trying to reach a package on the top shelf. A man behind him stretched and grabbed it for him. With the box in his hands, the boy turned to thank the man only to see a closing door and hear a faint tinkling from the bell overhead. The girl paid for her selections and exited the store, clutching her bags with gloved hands. A blast of chilled air pinkened her cheeks as she once again entered the streets, now greatly depleted of shoppers.

She picked her way through the slush and a ringing once again reached her ears. She continued to slosh her way down the sidewalk among a group of stragglers and came upon another Santa waving his bell. She found herself separate from the cluster and stand at the pot looking in. Her mind replayed the deeds of the unknown strangers, who had quietly made a difference. Gazing down with a change of heart she watched three bills drift from her hand to land among others. One for each of the kindnesses she had witnessed this night.

A Gift for Him

By Kelly Gagnon

Grade 11, Farmington High School

Christmas, it's a time for laughter, cheer, and merriment. And yet there I was, kneeling on the cold, snow covered ground, desperate and alone, in front of his grave.

He promised me this Christmas would be one I'd never forget, and he was right. I'd never forget the way the flakes of snow instantly melted as they settled on his gravestone. Or the feeling of complete numbness I had, whether from spending the day outside in the cold, or from the longing I felt for a future that would never be. It would forever be burned into my memory, the way the tears flowed from my eyes, knowing he wasn't there to wipe them away.

He wasn't there to pull me into his arms and tell me that everything would be okay, that we'd get through this together. He wasn't there to make me laugh, in a way no one else had ever been able to. He wasn't there to tell me stories of what the future would hold for us. He wasn't there for me to bury my face in his shoulder, where I felt safe, where no one and no thing could harm me.

He. Wasn't. There.

Christmas had always been my favorite time of the year. I loved waking up to the early morning chill of the air. Going into the living room to see our Christmas tree, covered in lights, garland, and ornaments collected over the years. Exchanging gifts and curling up on the couch with loved ones. Christmas morning held some of my greatest memories. And now, it held one of my worst.

I was now amongst those who looked upon Christmas as a depressing holiday, a day to get through, not to enjoy. This was the first time I had ever understood how a person could dread this time of the year. I was alone, on a day meant to be spent with those you love.

Realizing the sun had begun to fall, and soon it'd be too dark to see anything past arm's length, I wiped away my tears and reached into my bag. I pulled from it a box, decorated in reds and greens, with a big bow on top. I had searched for weeks for the perfect gift, and now I'd never get to see the look on his face as he opened it.

With one final whispered goodbye, I set the gift down on his grave, stood up, and walked silently away into the night.

As Soon as My Daddy Comes Home

By Aubrie Leak

Grade 11, Somersworth High School

Brushing past bodies through open doors,

The gentlest traces of snow

It will begin to feel like Christmas

As soon as my daddy comes home

He'll sink in his armchair to rest his eyes

I'll climb up into his lap

We'll drink hot cocoa with marshmallow smiles

As soon as my daddy comes home

I've laced up my boots, my jacket's zipped up

My cap stretches down to my eyes

I'll make a snow angel or snow man, I think

To show Daddy when he comes home

Mommy wraps Daddy's old scarf 'round my face

To keep Jack Frost from nipping my nose

I hope that he's warm, wherever he is

And I hope soon my daddy comes home

I'll sled down our hill at the speed of light

His laugh on the breath of the wind

Maybe I'll glimpse him, his shape just a blur

As soon as my daddy comes home

Our Christmas tree's standing, the lights are strung up

Ornaments hang all around

The star's set aside because Mommy can't reach

But Daddy can, when he comes home

Christmas Eve, Mommy stands next to the fireplace

Eyeing the jar on the mantel

The star that was never hung slips from her hand

My daddy is so far from home

Mommy comes into my room that night

Quietly sits on my bed

Taking my hand and talking to me

About why Daddy hasn't been home

We stay up past midnight, each telling stories

That turn all our tears into laughter

Although I can't see him I feel that he's there

I know that my daddy's come home

The Man with the Red Cap

By Hailey Moll

Grade 12, The Derryfield School, Manchester

The man with the red cap is a marvelous sight,

Attached to eight reindeer, he flies through the night.

Only occurring one evening a year,

This man is a spectacle never too near.

He has an invisible manifestation,

Yet his appearance is consistent through each generation.

A suit made of red lined with snowy white trim,

He carries round a sack that is filled to the brim.

A short and plump man is his famous physique,

He travels to each home with cunning technique.

His cheeks are rosy and filled with glee,

Like a star atop the Christmas tree.

He shimmies down each chimney and lands with a thump,

Quietly placing gifts beside the tree stump.

A doll for each girl and a train for each boy,

Who will race down the stairs to discover their toy?

Then quick as a cat he scales the chimney once more,

When he is around there's no need for a door!

This Christmas magician,

Is a holiday tactician!

He glides through the night,

Right out of sight!

Flying round the globe,

In his velvety wardrobe.

Next year he'll be back,

With his sleigh and his sack.

But until then you will just have to wait,

For that man in the sky with his reindeer of eight.

The Holidays are Love

By Corinne Joyce Strader

Grade 12, Dover High School

Every year the holidays come and go. They are far too short and we rush way to fast to get everything done that we want to do. We make our lists on what we want to receive, we make our lists on what we want to give to others that we cherish in our lives, we decorate our home, trim a tree, and we have and attend holiday parties. What does this all really mean and why do we do it? Why do we take the time to do all these things when it is only a short time to enjoy? We all may celebrate the holidays in different ways but it all comes down to one reason on why we do it. It is love.

Love is what brings us all together during the holidays. We love our family and friends and we share what is called the holidays to celebrate the ones we love. It feels so good inside to give to someone the gift of you. Our time is the most precious gift we can provide. It proves to that one special person that you love them and are there for them. I have learned this so much at my age of seventeen because I have lost special people in my life that have given me their love, guided and taught me, and this has contributed to who I am as a person. This is love.

My holiday memories of my great-grandfather are when he would always reach deep into his pocket and come out with money and hand it to me to buy something for myself. He would tell me great stories from long ago and was very interested in learning all that I was doing. He is my strength and leader. He is love. My grandfather would lift me up high to put the angel on top of our family tree. He is my friendship. He is love. My grandmother would always let me wear her high heel shoes and I would clip clap all around the house. She is my imagination. She is love. My Aunt would have me over and she created a box doll house that I would play in with my cousin. She is my fun. She is love. Today, I am blessed to have my Nannie. Nannie is my confidant. She provides me with the most memorable times to be me. She makes the best peanut butter fudge. It is tradition and my favorite holiday gift. She is my trust, health and loyalty. She is love. My parents bring the holiday magic every day. As a family we always go to church and we all volunteer and give back to others. It feels so good to give to others. They are my security, volunteer, and faith. They are love.

The holidays bring out the bright light of our love and we must keep that light shining the whole year long.

Happy Holidays!

Finding Santa

By Haley Whitehouse

Grade 11, Somersworth High School

Dear Santa,

I know I may be a little too old to be writing to you, and you may already now this but I'm going to tell you anyways. I've spent my entire life looking and trying to find you, I want you to know that you don't have to be afraid of me, I'm not going to hurt you, so you don't have to Hide anymore. I have flown my airplane all over the North Pole looking for you, but all I find is snow, and more snow. If you would just write back to me and tell me where you are I would love that. The reason I want to find you so badly is because I want to prove them all wrong, and by them I'm pretty sure you know who I'm talking about, as I've told you in my previous letters from when I was younger. Please Santa stop hiding an help me prove them all wrong.

Your friend,

Caleb

Caleb, on 18-year-old boy from a small town in Canada has spent most of his life searching for his one and only idol, Santa Clause. Caleb has always been a believer in Santa even when everyone, including his parents, told him he wasn't real. Caleb was teased all throughout his life about his beliefs in Santa. He's been searching all over for Santa from the moment he learned how to fly a plane. The problem is he can't find him.

One day. while taking his usual flight around the North Pole, Caleb decided to go a different way than he normally does, when he comes across a flashing red light. The only thing going through his head was “Santa is signaling me.” Caleb started heading toward the flashing red light, and found something that blew his mind. The minute he started to land toward the colorful village, Christmas music started blasting out of his radio. At that moment Caleb knew he was getting closer to his goal. After he landed, Caleb sprinted out of the plane and ran toward the village, only to find little people with pointy ears looking at him strangely — Santa's elves. Caleb didn't stop running; he kept going and going until he bumped into a woman, knocking her and the cookie tray in her arms on the ground. The woman he ran into was the famous Mrs. Clause; Caleb immediately apologized, helped her pick up the cookies and offered to help her make more cookies. They rushed back to the house and baked more cookies, Caleb forgot who he was with until he heard the laugh he could recognize anywhere coming into the house. Caleb turned around slowly to find the one and only Santa. He became overwhelmed with feelings and ran to Santa, giving him a hug. After many hours of getting to know Santa personally and trying to convince Santa to come home with him, Caleb got what he wished for his whole life and proved everyone wrong.